


Kinky Bastard

by 5t3r30typ1c4l



Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Bottom Roronoa Zoro, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Fear, Gay, Gay Sex, Kinky, Kissing, M/M, Muscle Kink, Muscles, No Plot/Plotless, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post Timeskip, Smut, Top Vinsmoke Sanji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5t3r30typ1c4l/pseuds/5t3r30typ1c4l
Summary: Zolo likes muscles, Sanji has muscles.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	Kinky Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> Zolo in the manga, Zoro in the anime, I prefer manga.
> 
> Not edited or revised.

**He had missed dinner on purpose.** Hiding in the mast, lifting his weights. Roronoa Zolo was not one to face his fears. Simply put: he did not fear much at all. Thus he never had to face the things that scared him. He never liked being afraid, never liked the feeling in his stomach. 

Naturally, he avoided the one person that scared him. Now, Sanji didn't scare him in a traditional sense. No. Zolo snorted, as if! Then he frowned, letting the massive weight he was lifting fall to the floor. Sitting in a huff, sweat beading and trailing down his tanned skin. He rolled his shoulders and sighed. 

He was _starving_ yet he didn't dare go into that kitchen. Where he would be alone with that man. Zolo would rather starve than be in the same room with Sanji. A dimly lit kitchen, as it was nearing evening, the only light would be the waning sun and Sanji's lit cigarette. Delicate ribbons of curling smoke would drift in the air. Sanji would hum to fill the silence. A quiet broken only by the sound of sloshing water. 

He would have discarded his overcoat, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Water dripping from his toned forearms. The muscles in his shoulders would flex and shift and--

Shit. Zolo dropped his head in his hands. His face was hot and pink. Nipples shamefully hard and erection throbbing in his jeans. It was dangerous, thinking about another man like this. Especially _that_ man. Sanji who wore his clothes a size too small. Sanji whose pants hugged and squeezed his firm thighs and calves. Sanji who always seemed to flex and roll his shoulders and bend his spine when he knew Zolo was watching. Sanji who popped his joints and stretched whenever he damn pleased. 

He wasn't making his situation any better. Bouncing his knee Zolo rubbed his face. A cold shower, he decided, that would help, so he stood. But just as his warm, calloused hand reached for the doorknob, the door swung open. A breath of cool air washed over him, and a unique smell.

Dish soap, a blend of spices, and tobacco. Zolo froze, oh no.

"You missed dinner stupid." Sanji growled, pushing his way into the room. He had a lunch box in his hand. He threw it on the ground with Zolo's robes. 

Then he turned and took in Zolo's haggard appearance. The blank look on his face, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, and, of course, his raging erection. Zolo opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

For a heartbeat they stood there. A foot away from each other. Saying nothing, but it felt like a thousand words were passed between them.

Then Sanji sneered, "I fucking _knew_ it."

"What?" 

He stepped closer, grabbing Zolo's neck in one strong hand, and leaning in to growl into his ear. Breath making Zolo shiver, "you kinky bastard. You stare at me don't you?"

Zolo was going to throw up. "No."

"I don't believe you." Sanji threw him to the floor, straddling him. Hunched over, still holding his neck. "I know you like this. You like being manhandled don't you? Slut."

Zolo shook his head, "disgusting! Who would enjoy this?"

Sanji squeezed his cock, "you."

"I--"

Sanji yanked his pants down. Spit on him, and shoved two fingers inside. 

"Fuck!" Pain shot through his back. Body going rigid, he jerked trying to escape the agony. 

Sanji growled and took his balls in his palm. "Don't. Fucking. Move."

Zolo whimpered, Sanji, thank god, kept his hand still. 

Soon it started to feel good. _Really_ good. He was mercilessly finger-fucked. Stretched, played with, and teased. It wasn't until Zolo was moaning, his cock weeping, that Sanji let him go. He gasped, but his freedom was short lived. Sanji spread his legs, grabbed his knees, and wrenched his body nearly in half. Crying out Zolo threw his head back. Somehow, Sanji's shirt had been ripped open. Allowing him the perfect, unbroken view of rippling muscles and perfect abs. That rolled and tensed with every push of his hips. Strong, muscular hips that pounded and pounded and pounded away. A cold belt buckle that pinched and prodded his tanned ass. 

Zolo moaned, whimpered, and whined. What was happening? It was… amazing! Sanji pressed more weight into him, his thighs burned, and held his throat. Just fucking and fucking and fucking into him. Until all he could do was scratch at the hardwood and sob with pleasure. 

Sanji's moans and groans were like music. The sweat on his brow only serving to accent the muscles in his face and cheeks. Sanji leaned in, and kissed him. At first Zolo went rigid, yet Sanji tasted so sweet. So familiar, he couldn't help himself. Sanji trapped his lips, his wrists, and his body. Taking his throbbing cock in hand and running his thumb along the head. 

"Cumming! I'm cumming! Sanji!" Zolo cried, his legs shaking and convulsing. With a moan and a gasp he came in short, shuddering bursts on their stomachs. 

Not long after, the squeezing and pulling of his ass coaxed Sanji to bury his face in Zolo's neck. Huffing and panting his release; Zolo could feel each and every pulse of his cock nestled deep inside him. They sighed, skin melted together, bodies still shivering in the aftermath. Only the roar of blood in his ears and the pounding of his heart was heard in the silence.

"How did you know?" Zolo finally whispered.

Sanji guffawed and snorted, "you got hard every time I took my coat off dumbass."

"Oh."


End file.
